Page 48 of Where Sinners Repent

She chokes on her sobs, her head falling forward. Her pink nipples are reddened from my work. They look sinful with two little bars through them.

Raising my fingers without even thinking, they rest against the pulse in her neck. The pitter-patter of her racing organ pushing blood through her veins is utterly addictive. Feeling the life source flow through her so fast has a small hiss falling past my teeth.

I barely give myself a minute to lavish in her moans before retrieving my last item. The one I’ve been saving.

The thought of Kai walking in and finding her like this has my groin throbbing.

This one is heavier. It takes me a moment to set it up before carting it to between her legs.

Her head shakes, but from the look on her face, even she knows it’s futile.

I bet her clit hurts in the best of ways.

On a heavy metal stand is the fuck machine. A motorised device with a thick dildo on the end, that pulls back and drives in at any speed I choose. Fucking her over and over.

I adjust it the same way I’d adjust any torture device in this place. The only thing that makes me pause is the arousal dripping down her inner thighs. Her pussy lips glistening with obvious need.

In some depraved way, she’s enjoying this.

My teeth slide together, and I decide that I’m not doing enough.

Notching the slippery end of the dildo against her hole, I flick on the machine. To start it slowly drives the toy into, her wet cunt swallowing it whole. When it pulls back, the thing comes out soaking.

Further this time, it drives in.

Using the remote, I set it to the highest setting. The motor whirs as the toy sets a punishing pace inside her. Reaching down, I turn up the wand as well.

Animalistic sounds echo behind me as I saunter to a chair, settling in for however long it takes for my brother to come searching for the girl.

My eyes drink her in.

Every muscle locks, then shudders through an orgasm. Her fingers curl so tightly that her knuckles blanch, a tremor running the length of her arms. The muscles in her thighs shake violently.

Her composure unravels with each second.

The toy drives in and out of her, the sound of it squelching inside her hitting me. She’s either screaming or crying or both. It’s hard to tell with a big, rubber ball against her tongue.

Every inch of her is covered in a thick layer of sweat. Her shoulders shake with exhaustion; the smallest movements demanding more from her than she has left. All predictable consequences of pushing the body beyond its limits.

Her eyes flutter closed, and for a second, I think she’s passed out. Succumbed to the overstimulation. But then a gasping cry falls past the gag, her body shuddering through another orgasm.

Just as I knew it would, her system falls into a perpetual orgasm.

When her eyes blink back open, they don’t quite focus. They’re glassy, her mind visibly lagging behind the relentless stream of sensation. Loose strands of black hair are plastered across her face.

Finally, her gaze focuses on me. My heart slows when need so violently shines in them, followed by her own confusion clouding the fury that burned there moments ago. She blinks once. Twice. Focus drifting before she catches it again, her mind fighting to keep up with a body that has long since stopped listening to her.

Another tremor runs through her, leaving her body sagging against the restraints, every muscle protesting.

Everything she’s fighting to keep, the anger, the control, is still there. Just. It takes everything she has left just to lift her head.

For the first time since I chained her here, everything she’s made of has been stripped away, leaving a version of her, even she wouldn’t recognise.

Finally, I stand. She watches me with blank eyes, still shuddering through her agonising pleasure. My thumb swipes away a bead of sweat under her eye.

“You fought it so well,” I whisper.

Her head lolls, eyes sleepily blinking up at me. All of a sudden, she nuzzles her cheek against my palm, and I wrench my hand away as if I’ve been burnt.